


Resolution

by quiet__tiger



Series: In With the New [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward First Times, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 14:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10698933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet__tiger/pseuds/quiet__tiger
Summary: Bruce acts on his decision.





	Resolution

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [In With the New](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10698825). Picks up where that left off.
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal Aug. 14th, 2007.

Bruce continued to look at Clark as he thought about the ramifications of further activity between them. Until finally he was so tired of thinking he just wanted to _do_ something to take his mind off of everything.

Kissing Clark again was really the best option.

He could feel Clark smile into the kiss, and Bruce pulled on his lower lip with his teeth. Clark fought back, his tongue in Bruce’s mouth, then teeth nibbling along his jaw, and then his hand trying to unbutton Bruce’s shirt. Bruce’s hand drifted up to help, but they were interrupted by beeping. Bruce groaned in frustration.

Clark pulled away, confused. “What the-”

“My watch.” Bruce looked down and shut off the alarm. “It’s 11:50. Time for Bruce Wayne to ring in the new year with his guests.”

“Right.” Clark had never looked so frustrated with agreeing with Bruce.

Bruce stood and helped Clark to his feet. “I’ll head out now, you come in three minutes. Rumor mill.” Clark nodded.

Taking a deep breath and tamping down his arousal, Bruce entered the hall and almost walked into Diana. “Diana!”

She smirked in an unladylike way. “We wondered where you were. The ball is about to drop.”

“I’m on my way out now. Walk with me?”

She presented her elbow for him to link with his. As they neared the door to the ballroom, Diana asked, “Is Clark going to join us?”

Bruce barely refrained from blushing. Did she know? Did she see? “He’ll be along in a few minutes.”

“You know, it really wouldn’t be suspicious if you two walked in together. You could have been off doing anything.”

Well. It was a good bet that she knew something.

Resigned to his life suddenly being more complicated, Bruce pushed open the door to the ballroom and affected a slight drunken gait to his walk. “Hey, everyone! Happy New Year!”

~*~

Three hours after the ball dropped, meaningless kisses were exchanged, and champagne flowed even more freely, Bruce had finally seen his last guest to the door and showed the overnight guests to their rooms.

He could finally talk to Clark.

He found him back in the den, taking up more space on the couch than should be physically possible. Bruce had to admit Clark looked good sprawled there, comfortable in his space. He suppressed a slightly nervous grin as he sat down next to him, pushing one of the strong linen clad legs out of the way. “Comfortable, Clark?”

“I’m better now.” A goofy, suggestive grin spread across his face.

“Let me just... take a breath, Clark. It’s been a long night.”

“It was fun, though. At least, I had a good time.”

“I hope I can offer you a better one.” The words were trite, but Bruce meant them. If they were going to continue what they had started earlier, he was going to make damn sure it was enjoyable. They both deserved that.

“We’ll just have to see.” A strong hand found its way to Bruce’s thigh and crept up it. “I have to admit I’ve wondered what it would be like. Would a man so focused on his work be as focused on a lover?”

“My thoughts haven’t been so pure. Batman may not have an interest in sex, but Bruce Wayne needs to get laid once in a while.”

“You think I’m that easy?”

“Based on the bright red go-go boots, I’m going to say yes.”

“They match the cape.”

“And the briefs.”

Clark squeezed Bruce’s thigh, not unpleasantly. “Only the ones with the costume are red. Besides, some of us choose to accessorize in colors other than black.”

“Black is sexy.”

Clark closed his posture to focus all of his attention on Bruce, and Bruce swallowed at the intense look in those alien eyes. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve had to watch you for _years_.”

Pretenses dropped, conversation halted, and Bruce just wanted to reach out and _touch_.

So he did.

He cupped Clark’s cheek with one hand and drew him in for a kiss; it was sweet at first, not much deeper than their first one on the balcony earlier that evening. But then Clark deepened it, techniques Bruce wasn’t sure were humanly possible making him realize how long it had been since he had been with another man. Been with anyone.

Bruce moaned into Clark’s mouth, then again when Clark tugged Bruce’s shirt out of his pants. Bruce was extremely grateful that he’d opted for a suit over a tux that night; he didn’t want to fight with pins and cummerbunds and antiquated fashion bullshit. Right now he’d be happiest in a towel.

Or nothing.

At the rate Clark was unbuttoning his shirt, it was clear that he had similar feelings.

Faster than he might have expected, Bruce found himself stripped to the waist and with a large hand rubbing his erection through his pants. He pushed at Clark so he could gain access to his shirt, then slowly unbuttoned each button, still kissing him as his fingers worked.

Clark’s hand moved a bit more urgently against Bruce’s cock, and he gave up on Clark’s shirt and unbuttoned his own pants. Clark pulled back and grinned. “Why don’t we both just get naked?”

“That’s an excellent idea.”

They stood together and Bruce slipped out of his pants, then his shoes and socks. Last were the boxer briefs, black of course. He watched as Clark shucked off his button-down, then his undershirt, revealing the massive sculpted chest he’d only gotten to see but never feel. Until tonight. Next were Clark’s pants, then socks and shoes, then his white briefs.

Maybe Bruce could convince him to wear the red ones some time.

But really, did what he wear have any bearing on the flesh that was revealed when each article of clothing was removed? Broad chest, well-developed legs, and a cock that lived up to the rumors that Bruce pretended to ignore.

Bruce stepped closer to Clark and put a hand on the chest that so proudly bore a family crest in primary colors when costumed. It looked much nicer bare, the skin smooth and flawless, nipples all but begging for his tongue. He couldn’t deny it to them, and Clark moaned at the contact as Bruce flicked his tongue over one and then the other.

Clark’s hand came up to wrap around Bruce’s balls, giving them a slight squeeze. In retaliation Bruce bit lightly on the nipple in his mouth, but it only made Clark gasp out, “Harder.”

He _was_ the Man of Steel, after all.

Bruce worked harder, glad Clark seemed to be as sensitive as he was, then moved his way down the ridged torso until he was between Clark’s legs, balls in his mouth. Up to the head of his cock, down the shaft, then stroking back the foreskin with his hand. Clark moaned happily, and Bruce felt a large hand wrap carefully around his head. The contact encouraged him to take him into his mouth, see how far down he could reach. Not all the way, not without some practice, but Clark didn’t seem to mind. Bruce hummed around the cock in his mouth, liking the way it felt, liking the twitch it elicited from Clark.

He pulled off and sucked on two of his fingers, then went back to sucking his cock as he pressed two wet fingers carefully against Clark’s perineum then further back. He was startled by Clark inquiring, “What are you doing?”

Bruce pulled his mouth off and looked beyond the long torso to Clark’s eyes. “Preparing you.”

“I don’t bottom.”

Bruce blinked. “Neither do I.” Realizing they had a potential serious issue on their hands, Bruce stood. “You’ve never tried it?”

“No. I’ve never wanted to.”

“Me either.”

“Maybe we should have talked about this.”

“There wasn’t time.” They looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Bruce thought about it, the angles of what it could all mean, and then decided it didn’t mean a damn thing. “I want your cock right now. Beyond that we can discuss it at a later interval.”

Clark sidled closer to rub their erections together. “I like that plan. We can work out any kinks later. I bet you have a bunch...”

Ignoring that last remark, Bruce wrapped his hand around both their cocks, liking the way they felt together, liking the way they filled his hand. Maybe one day he’d get to fill Clark’s ass, but for right now this was good.

And it didn’t require so much damned preparation.

“Sit down,” Clark commanded, and gently pushed Bruce back onto the couch. Bruce landed as gracefully as possible and spread his legs as Clark knelt between them. Clark licked lazy trails up his thighs before finally laving the head of his cock.

Bruce had thought Clark’s mouth on his mouth was great, but it was nothing short of amazing on his dick, the warm mouth eager, the tongue skilled. He thrust up as Clark moved down, as Clark took him in inch by inch. He played with the coarse hair falling into Clark’s eyes, the curl of hair that Clark didn’t have but Superman always did. Clark shook his head from side to side, making the blow job even better, making Bruce feel worshipped, adored.

He wanted Clark to feel that way, too.

He nudged Clark away, smiling to alleviate the confusion he saw on Clark’s face. “I want to do you, too.”

Blue eyes became just a little darker, and Clark offered, “Show me where you want me.”

“Lie back.” Clark did and Bruce turned and settled above him, dropped his balls near Clark’s mouth where they were greeted with a swipe of that skilled tongue. Bruce used his hand to stroke the Kryptonian cock in front of him, then went back down with his mouth, twisting his head from side to side, sucking, cupping the balls, and generally trying to make Clark, make Superman, come for him.

Clearly Clark had a similar idea because Bruce found himself continually having to stop and refocus his thoughts so he didn’t come, so great was the attention paid to all of his hot spots. No one learned that quickly, it had to be something to do with the X-ray vision. Were the waves of heat radiating from his groin visible? The bolts of electricity that shot through him as he got closer and closer?

He listened as Clark moaned around him when Bruce pressed his tongue into the slit, loving the way it was possible to make his friend, colleague, moan like that, beg like that, like he couldn’t get enough of what Bruce was doing. Maybe he couldn’t. Bruce worked harder, then realized after a particularly powerful shudder that Clark was trying harder, too.

All of a sudden nothing mattered anymore, not parties or guests or public perception or stocks, it was just Bruce and Clark and passion as Bruce couldn’t fight it anymore and just let his body take over, heat and pleasure so powerful it was almost painful pooling in his groin and then radiating outward as he came, Clark swallowing his bursts until it was too much and Bruce had to pull out and collapse next to him.

He got a hand on Clark’s erection to help him come; it did not take long, as if he’d merely been waiting for Bruce to come first. Bruce turned around so they were face to face again and pressed a chaste kiss to Clark’s lips. He smiled at the expression on Clark’s face, the cheeks pink for once, hair in disarray, pupils so dilated there was only a thin line of blue around the edge. Bruce had an inkling that he looked about the same.

Debauched looked _good_.

Resting a hand on the semen-covered chest of his lover, Bruce asked, “Was that anything of what you expected to end this evening?”

Clark blinked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Not even close. I expected the usual: we dance around the tension all night, I go home, fending off Lois’s advances the whole ride back, then I jerk off in the shower.” He smiled. “This was much better. Though who said anything about the end of the evening?”

“It’s 4am.”

“What time would you be getting back from patrol?”

“It varies. But sometimes I’m out this late.”

“And you’d be doing what, showering?”

“At some point, yes.”

“You want to?”

“Shower?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” The one in the master bath was plenty big enough for two people.

They stood carefully to make sure they had their equilibrium back, then pulled on their pants to walk upstairs. Bruce couldn’t help but keep marveling over the evening, over Clark, over the challenges that awaited them. Would any of this even work? What if they couldn’t fight evil together anymore? What if this dissolved their working relationship and their friendship? What if this was the first step of the end of their partnership?

Good Lord, what if Wally found out and the rumor mill churned overtime?

Bruce shook his head and decided not to worry about anything quite yet. There was plenty of time for that. Right now he had a gorgeous alien to admire and pleasure, and those were things he could happily do for quite some time, had wanted to do for a while.

Maybe the new year didn’t begin with a “bang” in the traditional sense, but this beginning was certainly explosive anyway.


End file.
